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I love how the Stinger stomps through the waves to the rythm of the song: and this one is great too:

From 1985:

Tubbs had to unfortunately leave this beauty behind to go have 'The Talk' with Crockett in "Evan".

Hello people! Been a longtime lurker here, so I thought well...there seem to be great community and content here...why not register and talk about my favorite TV series of all-time? I've been exposed to Miami Vice ever since I was a kid in the 80s (shielded from its content by my parents, but to no avail). See you guys on the forum!

Not really a big fan of the episode (Better Living Through Chemistry), but former model and actress Patty Owen looked great as Melody:

Looking out over the water from his hotel room balcony, Gordon Wiggins was painfully aware of the passage of time. Prison does that to a fellow, I suppose he thought as he took a sip of scotch. Haskell had left over an hour ago, but he was still turning their talk around in his head. He hadn’t expected Burnett to hire a bunch of ex-cops to run the facility’s security, but he’d managed to hide his surprise when Haskell revealed that little detail. That complicated things, but only a bit. It just meant he’d have to be extra careful when picking from Haskell’s associates. On the other hand, it also meant he’d have more options. If anyone had more enemies than drug dealers, it was cops. What he didn’t like was the idea of this Watkins running around drunk out of his mind and whining like a schoolgirl who’d been told she couldn’t go on the class trip. For his plan to work there needed to be quite, careful work, and he didn’t think the man could handle any part of that. But Haskell didn’t seem likely to cut him loose. Misplaced loyalty. Or maybe Arthur’s taken a shine to the boy. Never figured him for that sort, but you never know. Either way he knew he needed to be ready to deal with Roger Watkins. Turning, he stepped back into the air conditioning and slid the glass door shut behind him. The room’s simple desk was covered with newspapers, and he’d been going through the local channels ever since he got back to his room. Looking for the perfect conduit for his plan. Originally he’d thought to go with television, but the more he looked at it the more he was convinced good old newsprint was the way to start things off. Lurid headlines and grainy photos stuck with people more than a blonde with fake tits reading something off her notes during the ten o’clock news. Start it in print, then let it make its way to the screen. That’s the best way. Grimacing, he turned away from the papers. It still bothered him…how close he and Fremont had been to pulling it off. Getting rid of Caitlin Davies and leaving her drug-running husband to take the fall. Of course, that fool Tommy Lowe had thought the same thing. Pausing, Wiggins looked down at the papers without seeing them. Whatever happened to the cop who saved her life? The more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. The bitch would have been under police protection the entire time she was getting ready to testify, and likely for a time after. He’d even seen the man a time or two… “I’m an ass!” He slammed the glass down hard on the desk, sloshing scotch on two of the newspapers. “Burnett IS the damned cop! Same damned hair, same smug face. Of course they’re the same person.” He started to smile, then stopped. Things had just gotten much more complicated. First he had to be sure. Not just suspect, but know. Then he had to use the information. He didn’t want the man dead. He wanted him to suffer. To see his woman’s legacy destroyed before his eyes. That meant if Burnett and the cop were the same person he couldn’t tell a living soul. Especially not Haskell. Friend Arthur would blab it everywhere. He couldn’t help himself. And any hoodlum who did business with Burnett would want to kill the cop. And I can’t have that happen. If the plan was going to work, Gordon Wiggins had to be in control. He’d spent years figuring it out, after all. Caitlin’s legacy clearly meant something to Burnett or whoever this man was. It needed to be methodically and systematically destroyed. Any peasant could burn down a house. It took a skilled and thoughtful man to gut everything the house represented and leave it standing as a reminder. And that meant paying extra attention to the names Haskell brought back, along with a quick visit to an old acquaintance down on the edge of Little Havana. A handgun might be in order in case Watkins caused problems. But there was also the problem of Burnett to solve. And that meant a trip to the library. Likely more than one library. Looking for clues. There had to be something, especially if he looked at the man who’d killed Caitlin. Some slug called Hackman if he remembered right. There had to be something there…something that led him to kill her. And it had to be connected to either Burnett or the cop…both if it was the same man. And if it was there, Gordon Wiggins knew he’d find it. Ricardo Tubbs looked at the application, then at the background check form tabbed into the other side of the personnel folder. “Says here you did ten years with Miami-Dade. Patrol, then Robbery.” He looked up and grinned. “But it don’t say why you dropped your papers. You had a good record. Clean. No shootings. IAD wasn’t following you home. Why’d you leave?” He’d already put in a call to a sergeant in Robbery and knew part of the story, but he figured the lady sitting across from him wouldn’t know that. What someone didn’t say in an interview was often more important than what they said. The blonde took a deep breath. “It’s like this, Mr. Tubbs. I was tired. Tired of running in the same addicts for the same jobs week after week. We’d book ‘em, the DA would wave his magic wand, and they were out on the street again. It was worse after crack hit. No programs to get ‘em in even when they wanted to and we wanted to. The girls were the worst. I’ve got a five year old daughter, and it just…” “Yeah, I hear you.” Rico nodded, checking off a box on the sheet. The sergeant had said she was a cryer and not tough enough for the street. Her answers confirmed what Rico already thought about the sergeant. “And it don’t help when your boss is an asshole.” “How…oh yeah. You were on the force.” “Yeah. And Sergeant Hasko was a pain in my ass, too. Says here you were Army before joining the force.” “Six years with the First Infantry Division. Kansas, Kuwait, and Germany. I was an MP.” “Solid.” Another box was checked after he flipped to the copy of the woman’s DD214 and verified her conditions of discharge. Gotta thank Sonny for showing me how to do that. “I’m still waiting on the drug screen, but assuming that comes back good I’d like to offer you a job here. You’d start on days, at the front desk. Lets you learn the routine and gets the patients used to seeing you. After that you’ll have the chance to move to the new ward.” “Thank you, sir!” She jumped to her feet and pumped Rico’s hand. “I…you won’t be sorry.” “I’ll call you when we get the report back and you can come in and start the paperwork. Shouldn’t be more than a day or so.” Rico returned the handshake and didn’t sit down until the woman left his office. Then he smiled and shook his head. It always gave him a warm feeling in his chest when the people he hired reacted that way. Still, there was the other side. Reaching out, he picked up the phone and hit a programmed number key. “Yeah. I’m hiring her. We need more females for the new ward. Don’t call the other two I marked for a day or so. I need to see where we stand in terms of vacancies.” He gave the folder one last look before closing it and tossing it in his ‘OUT’ basket. From there it would make its way to the bowels of HR where terrible things would happen to it. They were slowly computerizing the system, mostly with Lester’s help, and Rico couldn’t wait for the day when those folders disappeared entirely. Leaning back in his chair, he thought back to the conversation he’d had with Gina just after he came in. Trudy had called, accepting the art therapy position. It wasn’t a paying job exactly, at least not now, but it would be good to see Big Booty Trudy around Caitlin’s House. And he knew the girls would take to her. Trudy spoke their language, and her passion for art and music both required no words. And it didn’t hurt that she could and would kick any of their asses if they acted up. It had been good seeing Robbie. And just going out with Sonny and Jenny. Rico thought he’d done good adjusting to life without the Job, but he found himself missing the little things like that. Drinks after work. Sitting and bullshitting during a prolonged stakeout. He missed some of the rush, nowhere near as much as Sonny did, but it was those little things he missed more. Even Stan’s fantastic coffee in the morning. “I gotta find a way to get him on the regular payroll,” he muttered as he reached for another folder. The phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. Looking over, he saw it was the security main desk. “What’s up?” “We got someone out at the edge of the property, Mr. Tubbs.” Being called ‘Mr. Tubbs’ was part of the job he was still adjusting to. “Solid. They over the line?” “Not yet. From the camera it looks like one of those reporter types with the big-ass cameras.” The security desk man chuckled. “Those sensors those two goofballs put in are the real deal. I’ve been tracking this guy since he got within fifty yards of the fence.” “He look like he’s gonna try to jump the wire?” “Not sure. He’s in sector Charlie Two, so he’d have to if he wants pictures of anything other than the while wall.” The guard paused. “And there he goes.” “Send one of the mobile teams. I’ll meet ‘em there.” Hanging up, Rico shrugged on his suit coat and headed for the door. It had been over two months since they’d had a fence-jumper, and he wanted to see if the chump was a repeat customer or someone new. The Jeep rattled to a stop just at the edge of the cleared path surrounding the wire fence surrounding Caitlin’s House. Rico smiled when he saw the rough dirt path on both sides of the fence. It had been Stan’s idea to take a page from the old East German playbook and run the fence inside the property instead of right on the edge. That way you were on Caitlin’s House property as soon as you set foot on the cleared path on the far side of the fence. Rico’s security force was almost two distinct units: one set of guards for interior security in the units and another for patrol outside. The ones he picked for outside duty were usually big, quiet, and intimidating…just like the two surrounding a pale skinny dude draped with enough cameras to sink him if he fell in a two foot-deep puddle. The punk was waving his arms and shouting, and there was something familiar about him. It clicked just as he shut off the Jeep. “Jimmy Campbell. As I live and breathe! And you’re still trying to lecture my people about the press. How many times do I have to tell you this is private property?” Jimmy had a thin face dotted with what were either zits or freckles and watery blue eyes. “An’ how many times I gotta tell you, Dubbs, the public has a right to know…” “That stops right at the dirt path on the other side of this fence. And the name’s Tubbs, chump.” He turned to the guards. “Take this rat to the main gate and hold him until the police get here. We’re pressing trespass charges this time.” “Wait! You can’t…” “Oh, but I can. I’m sick of your attitude.” Rico could feel the anger turning inside him. “How would you feel if your daughter was trying to get clean and you saw her picture smeared across the Post front page with a headline calling this ‘Hooker Hotel’? And yeah, I saw that issue, chump. We’ve got footage of you jumping that fence at least four times. Today is the day you pay for that.” He turned to the tall guard who’d once been a state trooper. “Call it in when you get there. I’ll have Legal draw up the papers.” Back in his office, he made the call to Legal and then punched in Sonny’s number. He smiled when he heard the familiar voice. “Crockett.” “Yeah, it’s Rico. I’m having that chump Campbell from the Post arrested on trespass charges. He jumped the Charlie Two fence again and trotted his old ‘right to know’ act again.” “Good. That moron’s got a hard-on for the House. You let Legal know?” “Yeah, and my people are putting the package together right now. Tapes, photos, copies of the warnings we sent to him and the Post. The whole deal.” “Good. I’d let Dr. Jessup know, too. The Post will run some shitty headlines and we can expect questions.” “Yeah, and she looks better than either of us do on camera.” Rico smiled. “I’ll read Gina in, too.” “Good man. Have Legal look into some kind of restraining order as well. I don’t want that piece of trash on our property again.” There was a pause. “I gotta run. Jenny’s got some budget stuff she wants me to look over…” “Solid. I just wanted to read you in first, partner.” “Yeah. I’ll be by this afternoon to go through those tapes from Robbie’s. See if we can spot anything.” Ten minutes later he’d called everyone who needed calling, and leaned back in his chair with a low sigh. Miami-Dade was about five minutes out according to the front gate, and there’d be more paperwork to sign and trees to kill once they showed up and took possession of Campbell. Still, something Sonny had said was still rattling around in his head. Why were Campbell and the Post so interested in Caitlin’s House? Reaching out, he hit the button for Mindy’s extension. “Hey, baby. Can you drop over here for a second?” No matter how many times he saw her, Mindy still took his breath away. Her black pencil skirt and deep blue silk top set off her red hair to perfection, and she smiled as she followed his eyes. “I see you like my choices.” “Always, lady. Looked good this morning, looks better now.” He smiled. “Anyhow, I got a coupla questions for you.” He told her about Campbell in short words. “Sonny mentioned it, and now I wanna know. Is there any reason he or the Post would have such a hard-on for us? I know the House got some press early on, but it was mostly good if I remember right. But the Post…” She nodded. “They’re mostly a tabloid, right?” “Yeah, but most of them have no attention span. They run from one manufactured story to the next. But these cats…” “It feels like old times. I’ll put some intel together. Trudy’s gonna be by later today. Maybe she can help.” “Solid. I’ll check with Switek and see if he can figure out anything from the junk the chump was carrying. He had the usual cameras with the telephoto lenses, but there were a couple of gadgets I didn’t recognize. We took pictures, mostly when the chump was shouting at the uniforms.” “I bet that went over well.” “Cuffed and stuffed.” Rico chuckled at the memory. “Let me know what you find out.” “Only if you buy me dinner.” “Solid. Downbeat’s rolling out a new menu and I bet we can talk them into letting us try some of it ahead of time.” The smell of her perfume lingered after she left, and Rico just let the memories wash over him. Then he frowned, remembering the guys from Robbie’s club. If Stan showed up before Sonny he’d have the big guy work his magic. It was likely nothing, but Rico wanted to be sure. Burnett had been a name to conjure with not too long ago, and in some corners memories died hard. Even his own. There were nights, far fewer now, he still snapped awake. Hearing those words. ‘I know you. You’re a cop’ followed by a gunshot. He understood what had happened to Sonny, and the rational side of him accepted it and also knew if Sonny had really wanted to kill him he would have. Still, there was that corner of him that wouldn’t let that memory go. In the moments after he’d snap awake he understood how Stan must have felt every day for years when Sonny came into the squad room back at OCB after Larry Zito was murdered. The buzzing of his phone broke into his thoughts. “Stan’s here.” It was the main gate guard, a big former deputy marshal. “Shall I send the photos from that little dipshit back with him?” “Yeah. Thanks.” Stan was laughing when he came into the office. “Man, you should see one of the pictures they have of that idiot! Makes him look like a squirrel on crack!” “Yeah. I’ll bet.” Rico waved Stan to a chair. “Got two things for you, big guy. One, can you make out anything about his equipment from those pictures? And two, can you clean up some surveillance footage for us?” “His gear’s easy.” Stan flipped through the folder of photos he’d brought from the guard shack. “Mostly garden-variety cameras and stuff.” He paused. “Until you get to this. He’s got a top-grade boom microphone here. The kind of thing you don’t usually see people using outside of our old circles.” “So police-grade?” “Try guys in tan Ford grade.” Stan chuckled. “I’d have to pawn my original Elvis ‘viva Las Vegas’ jacket and the blue suede shoes to even get to borrow one. How this punk got his hands on one…” “Is a very good question. I doubt if the Post has pockets that deep.” “They might.” Stan shrugged. “What can I say? They’ve got a good horoscope column in section C. Anyhow, they wouldn’t have until about six months ago. They got bought out by someone. Don’t know who, but they started running more of those ‘which celeb’s sleeping with the maid or pool boy’ stories than they used to.” “Any idea whose money’s behind it?” “If I had to guess I’d say narco cash. Gives them an outlet and a way to gather intel without anyone noticing. Or one of ‘em might have bought it for his latest squeeze. The money those dudes have…” “Yeah.” Rico rubbed his temples. Another thing for Mindy to dig into. “And now we got this footage.” “He give it to you on CD?” “Yeah.” “Cool.” Stan pulled a laptop out of the backpack slung over his left shoulder. “Lester set this up so I can do some stuff in the field. Saves time and shoe leather, let me tell you.” He waited while the machine booted up and then hit a button opening the CD tray. “And now…presto! Do we have to search for anyone?” “Naw. Robbie said it was set to start right where the chumps we’re interested in come on camera. It’s not much footage, and the quality’s kinda low.” “Tell me about it.” Stan squinted at the monitor, his fingers roaming the keyboard as he tapped in commands and fiddled with the small black pad in front of the keys. “That’s got it. Man, he needs to get a new system. Tell him I’ll give him the friends and family discount. It’s like the thing was filmed underwater in a swamp.” He fiddled a bit more and then sighed. “That’s about as good as it’s gonna get. Want me to save ‘em as images and send them to you?” “Yeah. Sonny should be by this afternoon and we can look ‘em over. But do either of them look familiar to you?” “Not the smaller one. But the big guy with the bad gold chains? He kinda does. I’ll show this to Lester and see if it shakes anything loose with him.” Stan chuckled. “He’ll just say one day the computer will do all this for us by recognizing their faces when it’s compared to a database or something.” “Yeah. That’ll be the day.” Rico shook his head. “Look, I need to you have another look at that Charlie 3 sector. See if there’s anything else we can do over there electronics-wise. And I’ve been meanin’ to ask. What would it take to bring you and Lester on staff officially?” “Seriously?” “Yeah. This is gettin’ more serious by the day, and we need counter-surveillance support more than ever. You two are the best I know, and Sonny and Jenny only want the best here.” “I’ll talk it over with Lester, but I’d say you could just bring us on with a long-term exclusive contract or something fancy like that.” Stan ejected the CD and started shutting down the laptop. “The images are saved on that disk. Robbie was using one of those new disks you can write to as well as read.” “So you’d still be your own thing…” “Yeah. It’s nothing personal, Rico. You know that. But, hell…we built Roach Sweepers up from nothing. I’d really hate to see it just go away.” “I get it, big guy. And I bet Sonny will, too. Check with Lester and let us know. But the offer’s there no matter what shape it takes once the lawyers are done with it.” “I appreciate it, Rico. Now I’d better go look that stuff over and see if we can plug any holes. If this guy’s got access to one of those mics it changes the threat profile. If there’s one thing I learned from Castillo…” “Plan for the worst. Yeah, I know.” Once Stan was gone, Rico fed the disk into his desktop computer and opened the saved images. But he couldn’t focus on them. He was still wondering about that microphone. What the hell did that chump want to listen in on here? It didn’t make sense, and he didn’t like things not making sense. It was almost two before Sonny got to the office, but Rico didn’t really notice the time passing. He called Mindy and added the Post to her list of things to dig into, and then forced his attention back to security questions. By the time Sonny blew in he was ready for a break. “Stan have any luck with those images we got from Robbie?” “Yeah. Come on over and have a look. Detail’s better on this monitor than the big one.” He could smell the sea on Sonny’s faded green Henley as he came around the desk. Slipping his Ray Bans into the collar of his shirt, Sonny leaned in and stared for a long moment. “There’s something about that dude. Can’t quite pin it down, though. Something familiar.” “Yeah. Try this one.” Rico clicked the mouse and brought up the next image. The same one Stan had reacted to. Sonny stared for a long moment. “Hector Rendozo. Went by Hank in ’88 and ’89.” Rico snapped his fingers. “Now I remember the chump. Looks like he’s bulked up a bit since then.” “Prison weight rooms do that for you.” Sonny grinned. “He got busted back in ’89.” “Yeah. By me.” Rico shook his head. “So why’s he looking for Burnett?” “I arranged the transport, but wasn’t in on the bust. Maybe he’s looking to start up again now that he’s out. I thought he landed a dime sentence.” “There’s always good behavior.” “Or something.” Sonny frowned. “I’ll just have Robbie keep an eye out. Once he finds out Burnett’s out of the game odds are old Hank will drift off looking for other runners.” “Yeah.” Rico kept staring at the picture, annoyed at first that he hadn’t recognized Rendozo right off. But ’89 had been a busy year, and Rendozo had been a chump player. Scraps from the Mendoza table if he remembered right. “I don’t remember Hank running with anyone special.” “Some cousin maybe.” Sonny chuckled. “Hell, they all have cousins. Anyhow, about this visitor out by Charlie 3.” “Yeah.” Rico slid the pictures over as Sonny settled down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “Jimmy Campbell. Our favorite chump from the Post. He had their usual clutter of cameras and then this.” He pointed to the picture of the boom mic. “Stan says it’s tan Ford grade. Expensive as hell and hard to get. He also said the Post had a change of ownership a few months back. He thinks narco money but isn’t sure. I’ve got Mindy looking into it. And Campbell, too.” Sonny leaned back in the chair, and Rico could see his eyes shifting into their strange middle distance focus. The Burnett focus. “I never got why the Post was so interested in us from the get. Come to think of it, I think they had a thing for Cait, too. Always trying to smear her. Even before I came into the picture.” “I’ll have Mindy check that, too. With Trudy helping out now those two should knock it out in no time.” “Good. Did you talk to Stan about coming on full-time?” “He’s interested, I think. But he wants to talk it over with Lester and it would be more of a contract kinda thing. He doesn’t want to give up his business.” “Yeah. I get that. Last thing I’d want to do is take that away from Stan. Call it exclusive retainer or whatever.” He shook his head, and Rico saw the eyes shift focus again. “But we can’t get too deep down this one, Rico. The new wing’s important, and the expansion after that. Money’s not a problem, not after Jenny showed me the budget and state of the foundation.” He chuckled. “It’s all Greek to me, but it makes sense to her. But we gotta stay focused on that. No matter how many warnings Jenny gets.” “I hear you, partner. Hired another female guard today. She’s a former MP and bumped heads with that asshole sergeant in Miami-Dade Robbery. That means once she’s trained we’ll have enough females to staff the new wing properly.” “I know that’s a pain in the ass, but I think Dr. Sanchez is right. After what some of the girls who will be on that wing have been through…” “Better to keep the men away. I ain’t arguing there, partner. Just makes it harder to staff with our standards.” Rico felt some of the old anger rising. “But I ain’t lowering standards an inch. And if that means I have to have one or two men on that wing to hit the target…” “I know, Rico. And I got your back. Catalina knows the score, even if she likes to forget it from time to time. I think she forgets sometimes that pimps see these girls as property, and some of ‘em aren’t shy about trying to reclaim their property.” They spent the next half-hour going over the security projections for the next year. Finally Sonny stretched and shook his head. “Sounds like you got things under control, Rico.” “So long’s we move slow and steady I can keep up quality hiring.” He grinned. “Seems like we got a rep with local agencies now. Thing is we gotta watch out for the chumps with records or who got kicked off a force for one reason or another. Every batch of applications I get has at least two or three like that, and it’s goin’ up as budgets get cut.” “Let me know if it starts getting tight. I’d rather slow things down than stretch things too far and have some kind of problem. Keep me in the loop about that Post thing, too. I’ll drop by Legal before I head out and make sure they’re on top of the trespass filings and restraining order.” He smiled. “And tell Gina she might be fielding some nasty calls for a few days once they start screaming about ‘freedom of the press’ and all that.” Rico nodded. It all made sense, but Sonny mentioning Jenny got his mind working again. He needed to be on his game now, and in a world that was dramatically different now that he didn’t have a badge. “We’ll handle it, Sonny.” “Never had a doubt, Rico. I’ll be by tomorrow for the staff meeting and then we can hammer out the details of the contract between us and Roach Sweepers.” Left alone with the hissing HVAC, Rico turned and looked out the window at the manicured grounds. It was after two, so he knew somewhere in the building Mindy and Trudy were putting their heads together to work on the problem he’d handed them. Still, he couldn’t shake one thing. Turning back to his monitor he opened the picture Stan had enhanced and stared at it again. Hector Rendozo. What the hell is it about that chump that seems so damned familiar? He kept staring at the blurry, pixilated face on the screen. What the hell is it?

Ricardo Tubbs waited until they were downstairs to reach out and touch Mindy. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to be those two chumps right about now.” “No. Especially if Jenny catches up with them.” “You really think she’d…” “In a heartbeat, Rico. She’s very protective of people she loves, and there’s some kind of bond between her and Caitlin. Or Caitlin’s memory.” Mindy shrugged. “My gran might have have been able to explain it. One of those old Irish things is what she said. But Jenny sees this as those two stealing from Caitlin, and I think feeding them to the sharks was only one of the options she considered.” “Just when I think I got a handle on her…” “You can’t get a handle on Jenny, baby.” “Yeah.” He nodded and kissed the top of her head. “You’re right, as usual.” Then he checked his watch. “Crap. I gotta get back down to the office. Stan should be here soon and we got that new system to go over.” Stan was already waiting in one of the overstuffed chairs in Rico’s office. “Gina said you were tied up in that meeting,” he said with a smile. “So I just took a seat. Damned things are comfortable. I need to get one in the back of the roach coach.” “You finally get used to not having the roach on the roof?” “Naw, but some things you just can’t get back. Lester’s got some stuff worked out that’s almost as good as having the camera antennas, though.” Rico motioned toward his open office door. “So show me what you got.” Once they were inside, Stan closed the door and flopped down in one of the chairs across from Rico’s desk. “Lester and I came up with a new way to check for taps on the poles and other distant locations. I think it’ll help keep this place secure, especially if reporters start sniffing around again.” “Yeah.” Rico spun his chair and looked out the wide window Stan had fitted with a trembler to block any laser surveillance. “I don’t get why they’re so bent on tearing a place like this down.” “Same reason they keep writing about the King and Priscilla. Dirt sells papers, Rico. Even if they have to make it up. That and Sonny doesn’t cater to ‘em. No open houses or exclusive inside views for the ten o’clock news here.” Stan’s face changed. “Never mind that some of these girls would die if they got that kind of press. Literally.” “Yeah. But they don’t know that side of it. Not like we do. Or especially Gina.” Rico turned away from the window. “So you got these new toys. How much they gonna dent my security budget?” They talked for about an hour, more for show than anything else. Rico knew Stan would sell them the devices more or less at cost, and Stan knew Rico would pay twice his normal fee for installation and maintenance or tack a bonus onto the contract. Still, Rico also knew Stan appreciated being able to brag about his goods, and what the big guy accomplished was impressive. “So we’ll have ‘em in place by the end of next week.” Stan got to his feet. “I’d love to hang, but I gotta meet Larry at another job. Some rich puke who thinks the IRS is listening to his phones.” “Are they?” “Naw. FBI. But he’s a scumbag so we don’t say anything. Just sweep and grin.” Stan chuckled. “We’re actually going there today to pull our equipment. Soon as we found Federal wires we shut it down.” “Yeah. Let Duddy deal with that heat.” “He skipped town not long after we started. Last I heard he was peddling his wares around Atlanta. Take care, Rico.” “You, too. Say hey to Lester for me.” With Stan gone the office was quiet enough for Rico to hear the air whistling through the HVAC ductwork. He couldn’t explain it, but he always felt a touch of sadness when the former Task Force member left. It was like that Lester, too. He never mentioned it to Mindy, not even to Sonny. But that sadness, and a sense of loss, was there every time. “Stan looked happy.” “Yeah, pretty lady. He’s got a new toy and I’m payin’ good money to let him and Lester have their fun.” He grinned. “But it sounds like it’ll help keep some of the more scummy press chumps out of our business, so it’s worth every penny.” “I’ve got the applications vetted if you want to run through them again.” “Yeah. Then I suppose we’d better start scheduling interviews. I don’t want to be light when they start construction.” “And we’re needing to hire two? The pool’s a bit thin for that.” “Yeah, but there weren’t any red flags aside from the chump with the felony?” “No. Of course I only ran the ones with law enforcement backgrounds. That’s one reason the pool’s so light.” “Yeah, but we gotta go with what’s worked so far.” He took the files. “I’ll read through ‘em again and sort into two pools. One to interview and the other as backup in case the first pool doesn’t result in any hires.” He looked at his wife and smiled. “And then I hear Downbeat has a new combo opening tonight. We can grab some dinner and a show there.” Mindy smiled, the light in her eyes burning right through to his heart. “I’d like that a lot, baby.” Out in the darkness the waves slapped against the sand before sliding back into the ocean. Sitting on his deck, Martin Castillo let the sounds envelope him. The water. Piano notes from inside as Trudy worked on a new composition. Insects calling back and forth in the trees around the house. And another set of sounds only he could hear. For most of his life he’d been in Government service. First the CIA, then a short stop with DEA, and finally Metro-Dade. Decades spent in the shadows doing what some people called the hard things. Castillo never used that term. He preferred necessary things, even though some of what he’d done couldn’t be considered necessary. At least in the comfort of hindsight. Castillo was a man surrounded by ghosts. The hill tribes in Vietnam and Laos had seen that in him, and he found it drew them to him. Old Hmong shamen who wouldn’t say a word to another American would talk to him in broken French and Vietnamese for hours, and he’d found the same when he worked with Montagnards in the south. Even grizzled old Nung warriors like Ti Ti bonded with him in ways they didn’t with most other Americans. It was in those mountains he’d made his peace with the ghosts, including the new ones who came to visit from time to time. Now that he was out of law enforcement they seemed to come closer, more comfortable now than they had been before. Or maybe he was more comfortable with them. Taking a sip of green tea he closed his eyes and listened to the waves, hearing Jess’s voice again in the distance. And Jack’s. He’d never thought before about the significance of Jack reentering his life by the ocean until now. Somehow everything seemed to come back to the waves Jess had valued so highly. The music stopped, and he knew Trudy would soon join him. A smile slipped on his face as he pictured her in his mind. His pearl in the oyster that had been OCB. He also knew she was annoyed her playing wasn’t quite as fluid as it had been before she’d been shot. But physical therapy was helping, and the doctors said in another month or two she’d be back to her pre-injury baseline. She sat down next to him and smiled. “Did I tell you Gina called earlier?” “No, my love.” He used the Vietnamese phrase, rich with far more meaning than its English translation. “Did she have good news?” “I…” She paused. “She asked if I wanted to come on board as an art therapy instructor. Just a couple of days a week. It’s one of the programs they’re thinking of expanding as they build the addition, and…” “You told her you needed time.” He smiled and set down his empty tea glass. “Why didn’t you just say yes?” “I don’t know.” Trudy took a sip of her own tea. “It would be fun working with the girls, and seeing Gina and the rest more often is a bonus, but…” “Memories. I understand. It’s hard to walk away from a thing that meant a great deal and then be reminded of it when you see certain people. Hear certain sounds.” He looked out toward the invisible water. “I understand, my love. But didn’t you say art helped you when you were the age of many of those girls?” “It did. And so did my granny. But you’d better not be saying…” “No. You’re not old enough to be their granny.” He smiled. “But maybe you can pass some of that love of art on to them. Or at least give them a way to express what happened to them without having to talk about it. If they can paint their ghosts, maybe they can start to understand them.” “I’m no teacher.” “No. And maybe that makes you a better teacher. You know what these girls went through on the streets. Very few teachers would understand that. You can relate to them, talk to them in their language.” He thought back to the mountains. “There’s a value there that can’t be explained. Gina knows that. It’s what made her so effective in victim services.” “And I gotta admit it would be nice to be part of something again.” She paused. “I didn’t mean…” “I understand what you meant. We spent most of our lives being part of something bigger than ourselves. When that’s gone…” He stopped for a moment. “It leaves a hole. I think we all feel it in some way or another. If teaching at Caitlin’s House helps you fill that hole, you should do it.” “What about you?” He smiled. “I’m still tired. And enjoying the peace that comes from not being part of something like that. But I might ride in with you to see Crockett and Tubbs. Just to see how they’re doing.” “I’ll call her tomorrow and let her know.” She got to her feet, and Castillo admired her trim figure in the yellow moonlight. “And my shoulder’s stopped aching. I think I’ll go see if I can find a bridge to the next section of that piece. It’s driving me crazy.” He sat immobile until the piano started again. Then he got to his feet and stepped off the deck like a ghost, vanishing into the shadows around the house as if he’d never been sitting there. Out away from the lights things always became more clear for Castillo. Where he could close his eyes and feel like he was back in the mountains of Laos. Or Cuba. Or even Montana where they’d had their honeymoon. And where he could let the ghosts gather round and say their hellos. There were so many. Ti Ti, Gus, and Jess from his old team in Laos. Jack of course. Father Ernesto Lupe, his old civil rights friend killed by his own brother-in-law. Derek, a member of SOG blown to pieces on one of his missions in Laos. A kid he’d called Pancho, his first DEA informant in 1975 who’d been blown by another agent and killed by the runners he was informing on. All people he’d been responsible for in some way and managed to fail. It was a weight he couldn’t really shake, but at least now nothing was adding to it. He’d known it was time to get out when they broke the back of Unit 8. Even Sonny Crockett had recognized the change, but unlike Castillo he didn’t realize how far they’d pushed their luck. Or what the cost would be when the bill came due. And it always came due. He’d learned that for the first time in a smoking hole in the Laotian jungle, and had it reinforced time and again over the years. No matter how good you were, the bill always came due. He could still hear the music, faint notes carrying over the insects and surf sounds hanging in the thick, humid air. He knew he should head back, be on the deck when she finished playing. But he figured he could spend a few more minutes with the ghosts. He owed them that much. After all, they’d made him who he was. Standing, breathing in the night air, he let them envelop him. Gordon Wiggins hated the damp heat of Miami. He’d gotten used to LA’s dry heat, and feeling his own sweat soak his skin always soured his mood. Looking from the street map open on the rental car’s passenger seat to the handwritten address and back again, he clicked on the blinker and made a right turn. At least the Ford’s air conditioner was drying the sweat on his face. He hadn’t expected Haskell to have an office in such a run-down part of town. The last he’d heard Caitlin Davies’ attorney had occupied a suite near the top of one of Miami’s high rise complexes. “How the mighty have fallen,” he muttered as he made another turn and checked the map a final time. He caught a glimpse of his own face in the car’s rear view mirror, partly hidden by big aviator sunglasses, and smiled at the irony of what he’d just said. “How far indeed.” He saw the office sign near the end of one those horrid confections the Americans called strip malls, and swung his car into an open spot close to the door. Inside, he breezed past the awkward middle-aged secretary with a wave of his hand. “Gordon Wiggins. Arthur’s expecting me.” Arthur Haskell sat behind a plywood replica of an oak desk, his big frame somehow shrunken into something less that Wiggins remembered from school and later meetings with the man when the Davies woman had been alive. His eyes were equally diminished. “Gordon! It was good to hear from you. When did you get out? Wait. I know. Stupid question. Have a seat.” “You appear to have had a change in fortune, Arthur.” Wiggins sank into the fake leather chair. “And here I thought you’d be living off the fat of the land.” Haskell snorted, pouring them both drinks from a bottle he produced from a desk drawer. “Oh, we were. Until my idiot partner, junior partner I might add, managed to piss off Caitlin’s widower and get us fired. Then there was…misunderstanding…about a couple of our long-term clients. I was lucky to escape without being disbarred.” “Unlike friend Francis, I hear.” Wiggins sipped the cheap bourbon with appreciation. It wasn’t much compared to the old days, but after Club Fed any booze was good booze. For now. “Yes. There is that.” Haskell drained his glass in a single, long swallow and poured himself another. “Look, I don’t have much to offer you. Gordon. We’re barely making ends meet as it is. Turns out young Watkins has a bit of a knack with divorce cases, and that’s been carrying us.” “Ah, but I might have something to offer you, Arthur.” Wiggins took another sip and looked at the framed diplomas hung crookedly on the wall. The Arthur Haskell he remembered would have had them perfectly aligned and level. But with all that, he was sure Arthur still had money hidden away, likely overseas like he did. Haskell was the kind who planned for the future. “I saw on the news the other day that the Davies house has been turned into some kind of treatment facility.” “Yeah. He put the bulk of the estate behind that. Watkins complained, and Burnett fired us on the spot.” “Ah, yes. Sonny Burnett. The man with a volcanic temper.” Wiggins closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his dealings with the man. “How much do you know about Sonny Burnett?” “Not as much as I’d like. We hired a detective to look into him at one point, and the man came up empty. But that was years ago, and Francis did the hiring.” “Francis must have hired the only deaf and blind detective working in Miami.” Wiggins set down his empty glass and waited for Haskell to pour him another. “Thank you. Now where was I? Ah, yes. Sonny Burnett. The man was in the drug trade when I…knew him. The late, lamented Fremont knew more, and I think the equally late but less lamented Tommy Lowe knew even more. And he’s behind this project?” “Yes. Fully behind it. There are others involved, but he kept them away from us at most meetings.” Haskell set down his glass. “To be frank, Gordon, we were barely involved in any of the actual planning. That…woman who used to look after Ms Davies saw to that.” “Angie.” Wiggins let the name roll off his tongue. A true behemoth of a woman. And a formidable enemy. Firmly on Burnett’s side as I recall. “And she’s next to impossible to get past.” “We noticed that.” Haskell nodded toward the connecting door. “My junior partner had a run-in or two with her before Burnett came along.” “Here’s the thing, Arthur. We, the two of us, made Caitlin Davies. Oh, Paul did his part, and even that louse Lowe. But we were there from the very beginning, you and I. And we were both pushed out by that Burnett fellow.” Haskell chuckled. “Be fair, Gordon. You and Paul did try to kill her.” “That was Paul’s doing.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue. He’d repeated it so many times over the years he almost believed it some days. “He was never a patient man. ‘Just wait,’ I used to tell him, ‘that Burnett’s lifestyle will catch up with him and we’ll be there to sweep up.’ But he didn’t listen.” “Whatever you say, Gordon.” Haskell poured himself another drink. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re cut out of the estate. I looked into it, and legally we don’t have a leg to stand on or a pot to piss in. Burnett hired some former DA named Towers and has the place wired up tight.” “I’m sure he does, Arthur. I’m sure he does.” Wiggins smiled his best snake-oil smile. “But that doesn’t mean he can protect the good name of the house, does it?” “I don’t follow.” “Of course not, Arthur.” Wiggins realized what he’d said and smiled. “I mean it’s obvious Caitlin’s legacy means something to this animal. We might not be able to get control of the estate, but we can ruin it so it’s worthless to him.” “That’s a big plan.” “Had lots of time to think about it, you see.” Wiggins drained his bourbon and slammed the glass down on the desk. “All thanks to that man. I’d hoped you still represented the estate, but that can’t be helped. My plan will still work. We’ll just have to make a few changes.” “I’ll have to think about it, Gordon. This might not look like much, but it’s a living. And a man has to make a living.” Wiggins sighed. “Of course, Arthur. I’ll be in town for a few days yet if you change your mind.” He grabbed one of the cheap business cards from Haskell’s desk and produced a pen from the inside pocket of his suit coat and scribbled on the back. “That’s my hotel and room number. Give me a call if you change your mind.” He smiled and slid the card across the desk. “It really would be a shame to let this opportunity slip away.” “So it was that bad.” Towers looked up from the executive summary of the audit. “Yeah. And they’d been doing it for years.” Sonny turned and looked out the window of Towers’ office. Some days it reminded him of the view from the tenth floor suite the Task Force had called home. “I want them to go down, Gary. And I mean hard.” “We’ve got enough here to go for damages. Serious damages. Lost earnings. You name it.” He chuckled. “I happen to know Francis is doing time now for taking kickbacks from the Mob, so there’s a chance they’ll try to dump it on him.” “The auditors found evidence linking Haskell directly to some of the theft.” Sonny grinned. “Looks like ol’ Francis didn’t trust his partner as much as Haskell thought he did. It’s all outlined in the second section of the audit.” “Good. Look, Sonny, I’ll go through this myself and see what we can manage. I think you were right in aiming for three times the losses, but I don’t know if we’ll get that much. Especially if it’s hidden overseas.” “You let me worry about that part.” He thought back to Jenny’s comment, and knew the resources she could call on if needed. In addition to his own. “Anything we get’s going right into the House trust account. No profit motive here. I just want to make sure the place can keep going no matter what.” “I’ll call you when I have a game plan.” Towers got to his feet. “I’d love to have you stay for lunch, but…” “Yeah. Duty calls and all that, right?” “Nothing that fancy. Just my wife and kid coming by.” “That’s as good as it gets, Gary. Say hello to them for me.” Sonny shook the outstretched hand and turned for the door. It was cool in the garage compared to the heat on the street, and he savored it for a moment before climbing into the Daytona and cranking the ignition. It wasn’t quite the same as the Testarosa, but he could feel the familiar thrill coursing through his veins. And he found he missed it. Slipping on his Ray Bans, Sonny headed into the late morning traffic. His life was good, a damned sight better than he had any right to expect. And he figured that would be the subject of his next stop. He’d found Bobby Crandall through his buddy Robbie Cann, and at first hadn’t known what to make of the skinny counselor with the lined face and squinting old cowboy eyes. But he learned fast that Tex, who’d been a point man and later a scout door gunner in a cavalry squadron down around Saigon, took no shit and suffered no fools. One full tour and three extensions in-country during the hot phase of the war, in not one but two jobs infamous among vets for their high casualty rates, gave Tex every right to take no shit. They’d gone from meeting twice a week to once a week, and now he stopped in every other week. Maybe more if he felt the need. It had been rough at first, and he’d felt like a whining REMF when he found out what Tex had done and where he’d been. But the counselor just grinned. “Ain’t no thing, man. War’s war. Don’t hit no man the same. There’s some who milk it, and you can bet I kick those jokers square in the nuts.” It turned out Caroline had been close to right about getting high on the action. “It’s a rush. Same thing you got when you played ball, I bet. But a hundred times stronger. Some dudes don’t like it. Not one bit. Others…cats like me and I think you…can’t get enough. Hell, there’s gotta be some reason I extended three times an’ went back into the shit.” That conversation had been over a year ago, but Sonny found himself wandering back down the same jungle trail. “You know, Tex, some days I miss it. The rush. That whole feeling you get when you go through a door. Scary as hell, cause you don’t know what’s on the other side, but…” “That rush.” Tex nodded, rocking back a bit in his desk chair. There was a couch in the corner, but he admitted on the first day he used it mostly for naps. “Once it gets in you, man, it don’t want to let go. Latest research says the endorphins spike like you’re doin’ drugs.” “Yeah.” Sonny shook his head. “I thought I had it beat this time, Tex. I really did. Jenny’s cool. She gets it in a way I’ve never seen anyone get it before. And most days I’m good. Hell, better than good. But…” “When you were a ball player you had direction. Same with the Marines. And then being a cop. Hell, you’ve had someone else tellin’ you what to do your whole adult life. And now that’s back on you.” Tex looked at his notes. “And you said you never really started takin’ responsibility until you rejoined Metro-Dade six years back?” “More or less. I was a cowboy, man. Always in a hurry.” “What changed?” “Well…” Sonny dredged up memories he’d rather not look at in the daylight. “I drank myself half to death for about six months and then took a good, hard look. Didn’t like what I saw.” “Bet you heard a drill sergeant yellin’ at you in your sleep.” “Yeah, I think I did. But something told me I had to face up to things I’d done. People who’d…been hurt or even killed because of things I did. Or didn’t do. And I knew I had to come back and try to make as much right as I could.” Tex nodded and made a short note. “This was when that Task Force started, right?” “Yeah. I had to take command once or twice. Hell…no way I could have done that before.” “Not as much fun when you’re holding other peoples’ lives in your hand, is it? I ain’t askin’ that to be an asshole.” “No. You’re right. When you’ve got a team looking to you it really changes how you think about things. At least it should. I know it did me.” “So what’s different now?” “I don’t know.” Sonny leaned back, feeling the overstuffed chair give a bit. “Still got the responsibility with Caitlin’s House and all. And everything was going great. And then Jenny got me the Daytona.” “A reminder of your past.” Tex smiled. “Those aren’t always bad things. Sometimes ya gotta just let ‘em happen.” “Yeah. And I love the car. Ever since my confiscated one got blown up by some redneck gun dealer I’ve missed the damned Daytona. It was like the first sign I’d made it, you know? Into the big leagues of Vice after being in Robbery. I had a Porsche back then, same deal…it was confiscated property. But I was just the flash guy or my partner’s driver. But the Daytona…it was all me. Sonny Burnett. The man with the fast car and fast boat who could make things happen.” “An’ that’s a hell of a rush.” “Yeah. Hadn’t felt a thing like it since I made the starting squad at Miami. Or…” “Your first firefight.” Tex nodded. “Been there too, Sonny. An’ it’s a powerful thing. How do you think you’re handling it?” “Good.” Sonny sighed. “Better than good, really. Jenny might suspect, but that’s because she knows everything. But the others don’t know. Well…maybe Marty.” “Your old boss?” “Yeah. He’s been in it since God knows when.” “Look…you’re doin’ good. Coming here’s a sign of that. You saw you were having some issues and wanted to talk about them.” It always amazed Sonny when Tex shifted from good ol’ boy vet to doctor voice. “Odds are you wouldn’t have done that a year ago. Things from your past are always gonna trip that feeling. And that’s ok. Just stay focused on where you are now and what it took to get there. And maybe most importantly…where you want to go. It’s gonna be harder because of that explosion and the break you had, but you got that under control. I don’t know many dudes who could come through that in one piece.” He smiled. “How is Burnett, by the way?” “Good.” Sonny smiled. They’d talked through the whole Burnett episode and what had happened with the Task Force. “Using that to focus on how we take Caitlin’s House to the next level.” “Right on. And tell me…did Burnett ever get off on the action?” Sonny started to answer, then paused. “No. No, he didn’t. He was always too focused for that.” “Mission-oriented. That’s the part of you that rejects the thrill and looks for results. Hang onto that, Sonny. It’ll help.” Tex looked at his desk clock. “I hate to do it, but I got another appointment comin’ up. Guy’s in a bad way or I’d push it back.” He got to his feet. “I’ll say it again, Sonny. You’re doin’ good. This kind of thing’s normal, especially when you have a life change like you’ve had. Downshifting from the fast lane ain’t always easy, especially once the fast lane gets into your blood. I want you to call if you start having dreams or flashbacks again. Hear?” “You got it, doc.” Sonny shook the offered hand and clapped Tex on the shoulder. “Now I gotta go put the top down and get my fix.” The Daytona shot up the Expressway like it had been fired from a cannon. Sonny watched the road through his Ray Bans, hands light on the wheel as he picked his way through the slower traffic. He could feel the old thrill building in his veins, but this time it was balanced by something else. A kind of understanding.

Love how all the background from previous episodes comes up and ties in to this story. Great job, Robbie!

The other montage in that episode is also great (Assault and Battery - Howard Jones, when Cat is looking all over town for Jackie). Great song. Great shots.

ok, I have looked into it and this is a very mysterious case. To start with, the number is definitely NOT 5340 and not 53XX for me. On your stills it looks like it, on mine it ain´t. The 5340 N Bay Rd house structure from 1986 (with right part of the house sticking out massively towards the street) does not match the house structure we see in the episode in any way. Upon further scrutiny of the episode and many different stills made (camera is shaking a bit) and enhanced, I am sure that only these combination of numbers may match to what we see: 6245 (I am 95% sure, higher probability for me than the next), 6345 far off, but also thinkable are 6248 and 6348, all other combinations I have dismissed. The first digit is for sure a 6 and not a 5 as it is very slim and all other possible numbers would not work either. the third is a 4 with 95% prob. The look of house is a modern MiMo or 80s bauhaus-like style (especially the window and the big concrete block structured parts at 90 degree angles) that says rather South of the Grove (Pinecrest, ...). It is a modern construction, I would guess a built date from 1980 to 1985. Not much older. Thus, Miami Beach is unlikely for this type of house, except for some very few areas that we know of like Sunset Islands and Broadview Drive. What I did next is to search all possible address combination of 6245 and 6345 in the SW grid from SW 58 Street down to SW 135 Street and from 57 Ave to 88 Ave. Many addresses do not exist with these numbers, all others I checked, in total I checked around 25 houses in more detail (Street view, realtor) because the address was existent, but no fit. To be sure I did no misread on the number I also ran a check on 5245/5345 numbers in the same grid, but these numbers mostly do not exist either. Then, I switched over to Coconut Grove and Miami Beach and areas where such a house could be found there. Here it is more difficult to search for combinations as there are many individual street names instead of running street numbers. I tried all the usual suspects (streets with 6245 and 6345 numbers, like the Sunset Islands W22-W27 Street, Pine Tree Drive, etc.), no fit. I am starting to be stumped. My idea left is to search systematically and more comprehensively in Grove and Miami Beach for 6245 and 6345 numbers, but I am very sure that this house is nowhere in Pinecrest, Kendall, South Miami and Glenvar Heights. I specifically dismissed the area around 8360 SW 114 Street, because 62XX and 63XX is not a possible number there in Ave and Street patterns. @airtommy Although I did not find it: I hope that my search attempt helps you a bit, at least to exclude a lot of addresses. My gut feeling says either Grove, Gables or north of Miami (Beach). In Miami Beach itself, I don´t know any unchecked area with such a modern house. Small possibility left is that the exterior shot is an archive shot from LA or elsewehere. The interior scene with Crockett and Castillo sitting on the couch (only close ups used, no surrounding visible) could be filmed in the other houses used in that episode. P.S. what hits hard in this case is that the exterior shot used in the episode is very dark and coarse grained (stock footage?), thus upon enhancing the picture gets massive artifacts and is still quite dark on the building itself, which makes it difficult to get an idea about what the house looks like from above. I can´t even say for sure if the round high window we see in the middle is round on top or rather just an inlet in a rectangular structure around it which makes a huge difference in the appearance from above. So, dumping the address numbers and go with Google satellite would mean to search every single modern house (white roof which is flat or rounded in the middle) in Miami. In the last 2 months I have easily checked hundreds of such modern homes in South Miami in more detail while hunting down other locations and I also do not recall to have seen this house during any of my previous searches.

Welcome to the family. There is a wealth of knowledge from the members. Enjoy your stay.

If Miami Vice is your favorite TV series of all time, this is the perfect place to learn more about it and enjoy talking with other "Vice" fanatics! Welcome, Neons in Noir and enjoy your time with us!

@Neons in Noir welcome to the site! I look forward to your posts!

Thanks for the warm welcome here, pals!

From 1987's A Momentary Lapse of Reason.

Also a great tag team.

Surely I wasn't the only person who thought the blonde woman on the most-right was very attractive? She can can be seen dancing in the episode. (Phill the Shill)

She is on top of my list! There were many pretty women who appeared on Miami Vice, but she was the prettiest in my opinion. Outside of looks also a very talented and an actress who deserved a better fate. There is a interview with her from 1983 that might interest you. She was born in the Bronx, was very active in theatre, and was supposed to do work in the 1983 classic film Scarface.

Tery Ferman. A model who divorced a photographer who later married the "blind" lady in the Lionel Richie "Hello" video. She vanished. Can't find her online anywhere. Maybe she remarried and changed her name.

Nancy Valen (Home Invaders and a very brief cameo in Great McCarthy). Had a bit of a crush on her as a kid thanks to her guest appearance on "Saved By the Bell".

SMALL UNKNOWN LOCATION FOUND I am 95% sure that the homeless shelter was filmed inside the Tides hotel at 1220 Ocean Drive. See also my pictures below. 1. The Tides is the only hotel near the other locations in this episode (Leslie 1244 Ocean Dr, 1238 Ocean Drive) that is wide enough for the homeless scene which shows a very longish building. 2. The Tides has the same white round columns that match in width (approx 3 feet) and at the bottom of the columns (small black tiles seam in the episode still match between Honor among thieves and the scene in Hell hath no fury that filmed inside as well when Ellen picks up the magazine). Current photos show that the small tile seam is still there but was painted over in white. 3. The floor pattern matches exactly: the Tides has the same rectangular floor pattern with thick black rectangles with narrower grey lines going through and a smaller dark red line that looks nearly black on the episode stills due to filters used. There is also a yellow line. I tried to change the color temperature on that still to show that better to you. The floor pattern matches exactly with current pics from the Tides restaurant! The round black pattern around the columns is also there, as can be seen in the restaurant picture. 4. There are short thinner black lines 90 degree against each other at the bottom of some columns that match between the scene with Ellen in HHNF and the current pictures of the lobby! Too many coincidences for me! I think today´s bar in the restaurant was the room they filmed in - the floor pattern and the columns locations match exactly in my bar picture below. The door C&T&Cyrus came in would be the kitchen door then which fits to its appearance (today it is a smaller door, not two swing doors). Maybe the long mirror in the bar replaced the glass brick wall as I could not find any pictures with the glass brick wall, not even on the page of the interior designer who refurnished the hotel a few years ago. I am sure @C Glide can make some pics on site soon to prove the restaurant or another room of the hotel as the filming location? I would say it was the Tides at 95% confidence. Does anyone have better proof pictures or a better idea for that location?

If you're looking for Bay just watch for an explosion.

According to deuxflicsamiami.fr Michael Bay appeared in the scene where Sandoval is at a hotel beachfront waiting for the kidnappers. Bay is hardly visible. https://www.deuxflicsamiami.fr/Acteurs/Guests-stars/Michael-Bay.html

TV critic Steve Sonsky got a brief role as a bartender in the episode "Love At First Sight". This is his amusing tale of the experience. I included an excerpt, but you should click the link and read the entire thing. The inside story Miami: I got to star on Vice by Steve Sonsky https://www.miamiherald.com/entertainment/tv/article2261412.html

Strange outfit they gave him to wear!

I thought I'd ask us to gather together the best Miami Vice Compilation Youtube videos-the ones that really represent the show. This one was the first one I found and I loved it!

OK, I'll back off for a bit after this, as I don't wanna take over the thread. This is probably my favorite fan made music video of the show.

Saw this one before I even saw the show, and it definitely inspired me to consider making my own videos. It's not as fast paced or exciting as many other fan made music videos, but it definitely has a relaxing charm to it. Thanks to this video, it's actually one of my favorite scenes from the entire season. It's pretty much the scene as it plays out but with another song, so I won't post too many of these, as they don't require much effort, but as I said, this one holds a special place for me.

Sorry but I gotta do some shameless self promotion. Only cuz the first video now has over 100K views (which, given the over-saturation of videos on YT, I'll take as a badge of honor), and because the 2nd video got me a personal thank you message from Action Jackson himself.

Does anyone else get the irony of this? Its like some clerk at Radio Shack telling someone they were selling a TRS80 to ... "Yea they've got this internet thing thats new this year. You can send instant messages to anyone w/ a computer anywhere in the world instantly for free. I don't know if anyone is going to be interested in it. Only time will tell." THE SNEAK PREVIEW Published June 14, 1984 For better or worse, Miami is either going to influence, or be a footnote to, a little piece of television history. For better or worse, there has never been a show on television quite like Miami Vice. It is a show that is certain to be talked about. It is a show that contains flashes of brilliance with its cinematic and scoring innovation, but that, at times, can be disturbing in its brutality in the name of realism. The two-hour pilot for the forthcoming cop show was screened by NBC Wednesday for the nation’s television critics meeting here. All 12 episodes of Miami Vice (a standard network fall season order), its producers say, will be filmed entirely on location in our toddling town. Source: https://www.miamiherald.com/entertainment/tv/article229779539.html Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/entertainment/tv/article229779539.html#storylink=cpy

Someone asked, where Miami Vice ranked among the greatest TV shows of all times. Well there isn't really a definitive list, as it all the depends on which source you look to/who you ask, the criteria etc. Rolling Stones Magazine didn't feature Miami Vice at all among the 100 greatest TV shows of all times, but they asked people working in the film industry and critics, which aren't always right, not the TV viewers in general. However their readers ranked Miami Vice on a 2nd place among the 10 best tv shows of the 80's with Cheers having the first place. And neither did IGN creating a list with Top 100 TV shows of all time. It was fun to travel back in time and see people watching Miami Vice when it originally aired back in 1986 featuring the then commercials although had to cut that out and with Michael Talbott and his funny comments. Beautiful. There are 10 clips. I think the length of the video was close to 30 min. Had to cut it down to 10 to fit with Instagram.

We were happy and we didnt know it...

good and simple times with a small tv...now i dont accept anything less than a 32" screen

Damn. I wish he'd paid a visit to my living room! WE LOVE YOU, STAN!!